


Ripped Apart

by navyhurricane



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Gore, Bottom Castiel, Caring Dean, Dean Has A Wing Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Psychological Torture, Tortured Castiel, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-09-08 04:57:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8831353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/navyhurricane/pseuds/navyhurricane
Summary: Demons capture Cas while he is out on a grocery run. One of the demons with them is an old nemesis, experiences with spells. When the demons bring Cas back to a warehouse to torture him for the Winchesters whereabouts, what will Dean and his brother do...?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning for gore, pain and angst crap like that. And possibly smut??XJ

            

 

   The first thought the angel had was that the pie inside the grocery bag was crushed. An odd thought, especially when two burly and possessed men had either arm and were twisting the limbs so they bent unnaturally. Under the glowing streetlights, the scene looked like three buddies play fighting outside the park gates, one spectating. 

   "Hello, Castiel." The voice said his name with confidence, the poor woman's body the demon is riding forming a smirk. Cas doesn't look up, and  instead kept his eyes on the black high heels on her feet. The dark colour of the shoes matched any demons eye colour, proof of the possession. 

   "Didn't you miss me? It's been, what, maybe three centuries since I've walked topside? Since you sent me back to the pit." A meaty hand gripped the back of Cas' head, wrenching him up by his hair to meet the brown eyes of a blonde woman. Her bright red lipstick and overly precise eyebrows made Castiel compare her to a clown. "Honestly, it so wasn't peaceful down there." 

   At the choice of words, Castiel grimaced. "Irene." Brown irises give way to fully black eyes, glossy and empty.

   With a stomach churning lurch, Cas' surroundings change. What was the grass is now pale dirt, packed and dry. What was the space around him is now metal walls and a high roof, two metal chains dangling from support beams. On closer inspection, Cas find two metal cuffs on the ends of the links etched with small details too delicate to determine from his spot. His spot...

   The demons walked away from him, but the angel cannot move. Azure eyes glance at the dirt floor, squinting in disbelief and slight fear at the presence of a white angels trap spray painted onto soil. Old and carefully drawn, the design will keep Castiel from moving. 

   Turning his head around, Cas found that the building is cleared of junk and machines, support bars driven into the ground to help hold up the large building. The roof was maybe thirty feet above his head, the walls forty wide and approximately sixty long. The only light was from a large hole cut in the front of the warehouse, high above the door where Cas could see the full moon. 

   Soft taps resonated around the empty area, and the angel turned his head back down to see Irene-no, the woman Irene was riding. White teeth shone bright in the dark as the woman smiled widely. "How do you like it here, Cas? I killed everybody in here just so I could find some alone time with you. Feel special yet?" Cas didn't answer, just stared back plainly. Since the moon was on her back, shadows flit over Irene's face as she snapped her fingers, lips contorted into a snarl. 

   The meaty hands came back, seizing the angels wrists in a rough grip. Chains rattled above him, and suddenly he's suspended by his arms, tips of his toes dragging on the dirt as Cas sways, failing to find a foothold. He swallowed nervously but retained his stony glare. 

   Stepping up to get in his face, midnight eyes bore into blue ones. "I'll give you one chance, Castiel, just because I like you." Manicured nails dug into his face harshly as a lithe hand gripped his chin, turning his face to the side. "Where are the Winchesters?"

   Silence filled the warehouse. Castiel grit his teeth, stubbornness washing over him. Irene grinned, and along with his stubbornness, fear struck him. This isn't some half assed demon who doesn't know a lick about scaring somebody shitless. This is Irene. This demon has seen some bad stuff, heard some bad stuff and done even worse. Her most famous act-or acts-involve her pretending to be human, to be regular, trick some poor man to love her, let them adopt a child together and then she kills the child for her spells. The bones of the small human are extremely useful in her hex bags and summoning spells. Last time she did it, Castiel was there to stop her. Now she's back, and probably with a few more tricks up her sleeve. 

   "Last chance, Cas. Where are the Winchesters?" The angel held back a scowl when the demon said his nickname. It doesn't sound the same as when Dean says it. Dean...

   Judging by these circumstances, he's probably not getting out of here alive. If he is, it's by the skin of his teeth, which will probably also be broken with the rest of his body. The last words Dean said to him were 'Get back soon, or you'll miss the game, Cas!'; he has obviously missed the start of the basketball game now. 

   A curt nod was exchanged between demons, and one of them walke to the farthest corner of the warehouse, wheeling a table out from the shadows. The table was covered with a black sheet, hiding what was underneath from Cas' azure eyes.

   Irene grinned, and with flourish, whipped the sheet off the table. Castile shuddered discreetly at the sight of rusted blades, brand tips, pliers, nails and a particularly heavy looking sledge hammer. This will not be pleasant, and by the gleam in Irene's stolen eyes, his prediction was more than correct.

 

            ~~~

 

   "Where is he? The market isn't that far away!" Dean paced the floor, hand running through his short hair and down his face. Sam watched him warily, not knowing how to calm his frantic brother. It wasn't unusual for Cas to disappear into thin air, but he would give some sort of message if he went out when the brothers knew, right? Or maybe mojo the pie and beer over so that they don't starve?

   "Damnit, he's not answering his phone." Dean's grip on the small device hurt his hand, but he could hardly feel it. His brain was on a one way road, and headed to all the bad things that could have happened to the angel. He could have gotten caught by demons, dragged back to Heaven, ripped into Hell, or just simply killed. 

   It makes Dean's stomach churn.

   "Have you tried praying?"

   Dean shot a glare at his brother. "Well, Sam, Cas is an angel who normally responds to prayers quite quickly. I wonder why I didn't think of that!" At Sam's well tuned bitch face, Dean almost rolled his eyes. "No shit, I tried praying! Something's must be wrong."

   Sam sighed. "Just wait. He's gonna walk through that door anytime now."

 

            ~~~

 

   The angel did not, in fact, walk through the door. Instead, another cart of supplies was wheeled inside, adding to Cas' growing anxiety. 

   "Don't worry, Cassie! Those won't really hurt you...yet..."

   Looking st the second cart, Castiel spies a ceramic bowl, candles, jars of powders and bugs, a roll of twine, a pile of midnight feathers, and a opaque container that rattles like there's tiny rocks inside. Terror hits him as he realizes it's all the supplies for powerful spells. If the feathers weren't there, he would be less worried, but since she has them...

   Sometime throughout Castiel's inner turmoil, Irene had snapped her fingers and a thick pole appeared behind him, decorated with sturdy looking clips. The pole went maybe ten feet over him and at half that height, the pole had a perpendicular beam stretched across. Castiel barely kept a straight face as chains wove themselves around the tips of the horizontal pole. The height is the same as his...

   Grinning, Irene wrapped her fingers around Cas's chin, nails elongated suddenly and digging in. "Lets have some fun, shall we?"

   She stepped back, and shrugs the leather jacket off her shoulders, revealing a blood red tank top. How fitting. Dean would probably say something witty about it if he was in this situation. The angel frowned in confusion as the demon grabbed a small packet of powder off the table, opening it and stepping towards him. It smelled disgusting. Dean would _definitely_ have something to say to this hell bitch.

   Cas doesn't have another second to think about the human as a slightly hooked nail is driven into his eye socket. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HEAVY TORTURE AND ANGST IN THIS CHAPTER

            

 

   It'd been an hour, and there was still no sign of Cas. Dean was going crazy because of Cas' random disappearing act, Sam was going crazy because Dean wouldn't stop fucking pacing, and Bobby was going crazy because of the continuous calls Sam made just to keep Dean kinda happy. 

   When the phone rang first, Dean almost sprinted across the room to get to it.

   Whiteout checking the caller ID, Dean answers it with a rushed, "Did you find him?!" 

   Bobby sighed. "Maybe. Don't get your panties in a twist over it, Dean. If it is demons, he should be fine. Still, I got the address to a warehouse where a gas leak killed off all the workers inside. Town kept it off the news, but I managed to dig it up." 

   Dean grinned. "Bobby, you're awesome."

   "Don't tell me what I already know. Just get there." Dean hung up shortly after he gets the address, and snatched his keys from the table. _We're coming Cas..._

 

~~~

 

   Irene drew her finger back from Castiel's destroyed eye, immediately bringing it to her lips to suck the blood off. She had wiggled and dug and crushed his entire orb, red running down the side of his face. Cas almost bit his Tongue off keeping quiet, the only sounds he allowed out were gasps of frustration at his weakness. His eye throbbed, but his Grace seeped into the wound from inside, slowly healing it. The throb faded to a dull ache, and he almost sighed in relief as his eye began the process to rebuild itself. But not fast enough.

   Before the bleeding was even stopped, Irene dumped the contents of the small packet in his eye, packing it in his empty socket. Cas gasped, head wrenching away as the powder dried up his wound, but that's not all.

   As the powder sunk deeper into his body, he could feel his Grace being shoved away from him, and contained in an impenetrable cage. Immediately, his eye stopped healing and the pain returned tenfold. A excruciating whimper escaped his throat.

   "How does that feel, angel?" Irene cackled, throwing her head back as her eyes turn dark. "That was just a sneak peek of my spell to break you. Obviously, I needed to get rid of that annoying mojo bullshit before I could actually hurt you." She reached behind her, grabbing a small rusted blade. "Let's continue, shall we?"

   Stepping into the angel trap, sharp claws ripped through his trench coat and dress shirt like soft butter. The azure tie hung haphazardly around his neck, only to be torn off fiercely. A chafe mark started to turn red on the back of his neck from the sudden removal of the tie. That seemed to be the least of his worries now, though.

   As the rusted blade was dragged slow across his left bicep, Cas grit his teeth so hard his jaw ached. The rust embedded itself into the wound, like it was trying to work against him. Again and again, the same blade sliced raggedly into his flesh, not deep enough to cause massive damage but definitely enough to hurt like a bitch. The only sounds in the warehouse were the harsh breaths of the angel and the odd chuckle from Irene. Soon, blood drips into the floor from his upper arm only. He doesn't want to imagine the state of his skin, but the pain gives him enough to go on. Turning his jaw away, Castiel said nothing. His entire arm throbbed and burned and he refused to let the burning in his eyes mean tears. He was an angel! He could take this. A click of the tongue hit his ears. "Stubborn bastard. Don't you know those Winchesters are better off without you? Why protect them?"

   Cas didn't have a second to retort something back when white grains of something was hurled onto his wrecked bicep. Groaning loudly as the salt buried itself under his skin, Cas arched his back as a violent shudder echoed up his arm; his vessels way of trying to get away from the pain. 

   To make it worse, a hand comes down and scratches it deeper into his limb. He was prepared for it, though, and made little to no sound. His head thrashed, and his lungs burned with the effort to keep quiet. 

   But it's okay, as long as he can keep them safe.

 

            ~~~

 

   Sam crawled into the front seat of the Impala, his brother having already started it and was ready to put it into drive. The almost wild look in his green eyes made Sam smirk. 

   The angel and his brother had been pissing around for a while now, heated glances shared when they think nobody is looking, small touches lingering longer than necessary. After hunts, the two take more time to make sure each other are alright, and brush it off with a shrug when Sam questions it. Blind idiots. 

   "Dean, he's probably fine. Just drive careful, alright?" Sam reached over to turn the radio on. "I am so not getting in an accident because of your moon eyed brain."

   "Bitch."

   "Jerk."

 

            ~~~

 

   Lacerations covered his body. Blood dripped onto the floor, more than enough to drain him, but somehow he's still alive, heart beating at an unnatural speed.  _Must be part of the spell._ His ribs were completely shattered, and his limbs were bent at unnatural angles from the breaks almost penetrating his skin from the inside. His joints were crushed, ground together by hammers and hands. Nailed into the crevasses of his joints were nails, rusted and unforgiving. The shackles had been shortened, so his toes are inches above the floor. The pressure on his shoulders made him scream. Burned patches of skin spot his appearance, having been dug deeply into his person. His lips were thoroughly bitten from attempting to stay silent. His jaw ached from the beefy hands gripping his chin to keep him still. Still, Irene continued with her ministrations and biting words.

   She smiled at Castiel, the screwdriver in her hand being suspended over the candles open flame again. The flat tip was only starting to turn a glowing red. "Poor angel," she cooed, "All alone. Nobody left to comfort you, to aid you. Since you killed so many of your kin." Cas grit his teeth as much as he could.

   The air was cooling. The angel could tell because whenever his ragged breaths escaped him, they would float away in puffs of white. Goosebumps appeared on what was left of his intact skin, causing more pain.

   The burn of the cuts seemed to be permanent. Although it can't have been more than an hour, he could barely remember what it felt like to not feel pain. Pain, racing down his spine. Pain, his empty socket turning flaky from the dissolving powder. Pain, from his mangled skeleton. Can't they just kill him already?!

   Irene reached for him, using the orange side of the screwdriver to tip his chin up. Not holding back the sound anymore, Cas gasped and let out a guttural yelp, drawn out as the sizzle of his skin reached his ears. The smell almost made him vomit.

   "Where are they?"

   With the screwdriver still against his skin, Cas rips his head away, groaning at the movement that caused nonexistent fire to race down his back. His head drooped, still refusing to let the burn in his good eye mean tears.

   "I'm bored. Let's get something new to play with." She turns to one of the tables.

   Cas barely registers the chanted words spoken until it's too late. His back throbbed and he gasps as his spine arched. His skin-no, his shoulder blades-seemingly curled, pulsing with energy. 

   Panicked, Cas glances up. "What are you doing?!" His scapulae did curl this time, pressing into his lungs from behind. His skin above them ripped wide open, something he could hardly feel over his rising terror. "Stop! They can't manifest-this plane-!" His voice almost turned into one of wailing, begging, pleading. Irene's chanting turned stronger, her voice taking a gleeful tone. With a screamed last plea, Cas feels them wrench out of his back.

   Them.

    _His wings_.

   Gasping with exertion, the angel flexed his extremities. Almost five feet above his head, and twice as wide, the large black wings brushed the cold metal of the cross he's attached to. Solid, not just shadows. The feathers are matte in some places, dull and plain. In others, the feathers  are glossy, healthy looking and giving him a beautiful mixture of the two. It's odd, having his wings solid. They're not as heavy as you might think, but still have a considerable weight attached.

   His thoughts were interrupted by a clear snapping sound, and the pain he felt next almost made him pass out.

   Four spikes drive themselves through the arches of his wings, nailing them back into the metal pole. The chains wrapped around the spikes, securing his new attributes to the pole.

   Heat flushed his head, pounding and it made him want to rip his skin off to stop the hurt. Immediately, Irene got to work on them, wrenching feathers out and using her nails to puncture the thin layer of muscle. Castiel screamed, thrashing and shuddering. He can't hold back the tears.

   "Worthless angel, don't you know it'll be better if you tell us where they are? That way, you can live, not having to worry about those Winchesters anymore. You could hardly protect them anyways." She moved to the side, plucking closer to his body. "They will hate you, loathe you, try to hunt you down like Dean Winchester to women." Cas couldn't help the flinch at the humans name. Irene notices. 

_Don't listen to her!_

   "Oh, is that a sore spot?" Her fingers dug deeper. "Despicable. He will definitely disown you. Broken wings mean you can't fly to his aid. Did you think that his helping you was out of kindness? Fucking angel, it's because you were useful." Irene stepped back, waving her hands at him for a few seconds before starting on his other wing. "Look at you now! Do you think you're very useful? Corrupted by a spell? Low enough that you could be below Hell?"

_You are an angel! Keep fighting!_

   It's true. Broken, bloody, beaten to a pulp. He could hardly see, his lungs only drew in short ragged breaths and he was close to sobbing. His Grace is absent, skin almost nonexistent, his skeletal frame is nowhere near normal and his wings are being ripped apart without mercy. Irene is right: he's useless now. 

_No! It's the spell! You are an angel! An Angel of the Lord! You aren't...you're worthy...useful..._

   He gives into the pain as the voice in his head fades away, chin almost hitting his chest as the words sink in. _Useless. Worthless. Broken. Low_. He's nothing anymore.

   Irene smirked. Why don't you tell me where they are, hm? I promise to kill you fast after."

   Castiel lifted his head, fully prepared to die. Anger built in his chest at the sight of her black eyes. "No." Irene's stolen body stiffens, and she raises a hand full of salt. Castiel doesn't flinch, just waits for the shooting pain.

   The smaller man sized door of the warehouse bursts open.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam save Cas and try to heal him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww<3 all you guys who commented, thanks so much!! Here's another chapter, and guess what??
> 
> The next will be a lemon;)

            

 

   Dean found the warehouse easy with Bobby's directions, foot pressed hard on the accelerator the entire time. Beside him, Sam went through recent news reports, finding a few omens. Dean's head was full of bad things that could've happened to Cas, some of which ending in the angels death. 

   As soon as the car was parked, Dean basically leapt from his seat, threw open the trunk and grabbed his regular demon ganking weapons: salt, holy water, Ruby's knife. Sam already had his mental Exorcism Language of Gibberish Shit ready for use, and they both loaded a sawn off shotgun. The rock salt would hurt the demon, not the host. Well, bumps and bruises but it's better than being possessed.

   Stepping silently, Dean pressed an ear to the door while Sam watched carefully. He could hear a female voice, laced with fun and glee, but not the words themselves. Frowning, Dean focused on it. She was talking about...worthlessness? Uselessness? Angels?

   Angels?!

   Not thinking about it for another second, Dean lined the door with a thick layer of salt right before kicking the man door open, splintering the wood. Sam almost rolled his eyes, but instead plastered a bitch face on and followed his brother inside.

   Four pairs of eyes turned to them, three of the mix were fully black, one of them has a missing blue orb. 

   "Cas..."

   Its his angel, strung up like a dead deer against a metal cross. His skin was ripped and Dean could see the splintered ends of bones sticking out of the gaps where his joints should be. On a closer look, he could see tons of two-inch long nails protruding from his body. One of his cerulean eyes was missing, the dark socket still bleeding. 

    _His wings_. Large and dark, the only parts of the extremities left were the skeletal frames, blood dripping from thin dangling strips of something. Dean almost gagged when he realized the ribbon like strips were Cas' skin.

   Two stakes were stuck through the high arches of his wings, no doubt shattering the fine bones. They shuddered every now and then, making his angels face screw up in what was obviously immense pain.

   Blood surrounded Cas in a large pool, not quite reaching the thick outside line of the angel trap. He was trapped. 

   Movement out of the corner of his eye broke his thoughts. Dean ducked, narrowly avoiding decapitation by a pole. He glared at the burly demon that threw it at him. The meatsuit of a man barrelled towards Dean.

   Moving quickly, Dean unsheathed the pale demon killing blade and drove it deep into the thick neck of the possessed man. He watched as the flickering body sounded hollow against the dirt floor, vaguely registering the sound of Sam chanting behind him. 

   Dean turns, and finds the main hell bitch standing still and unaware, her stolen face a mixture of surprise, confusion and fear.

   Irene had not realized the Winchesters were in the possession of a demon killing knife. She had thought that she could use the trinkets on her tables to hold them off long enough to kill the angel, and then perhaps manage to kill the brothers. This though...

   Irene realized that she was no match for the Winchesters, no matter her age and experience.

   Dean's arm moved by itself, and soon the knife was propelled through the air and into the back of the demon. Orange reverberated inside the chest of the woman, showing her ribs and spine before she dropped to the ground, blood red tank top turning wet.

   Silence, except for the heavy breathing of the bound angel.

   Wasting no time, Dean ran over to Cas, his hands finding a place of the tortured mans face. "Cas? Cas, please look at me!"

   Sometime during the fight, the angels head had dropped and his eyes had fallen shut, his chest barely moving.

   "Shit, Sam, he's not moving!" Hysteria bubbled in Dean's gut, and he felt his fingers shaking against bloody skin. The stakes were still in his wings, he was still suspended by his arms and he wasn't healing. Dean was frantically patting Castiel's face, trying to get him to open his eyes, just for a second to know the angel didn't die. Can a demon witch bitch kill an angel? Dean didn't know, and it terrified him.

   "Easy, Dean. I'll find a ladder to get his wings, you work on those cuffs." Sam already scratched a section out of the angel trap, and was hunting around for useful items. "Wrap him in a damp blanket so the wounds don't stick after and get him into the motel."

   Dean pryed his hands away from Cas' face, and up to the shackles. He broke them open easily, and the full weight of the angel dropped on him. His wings dropped to the floor after a few seconds, ripped and broken. Dean swallowed the feeling of anguish in his throat. His angel shouldn't be here, tortured and half dead. He should be with the Winchesters, awkwardly staring at people, questioning porn and just being Cas. Dean felt slight anger at the angel for not returning sooner, but the burning feeling was drowned out by the state of Cas and his vulnerability.

   "Help me get him in the car, Sammy, please."

 

            ~~~

 

   The cheap bed springs squealed as the weight of Cas dropped on them, his blood staining the covers. His wings looked lifeless, and he hadn't healed at all. Dean's fear meter was climbing rapidly. 

   Twice on their way back to the motel, Cas had opened his eyes-eye, Dean growled internally-confused and disoriented. He had been in the backseat, the heavy wool blanket around him stopping most of the blood from falling on the floor of the Impala. Dean had had his brother keep watch on the angel while he concentrated on driving and not crashing with his haste.

   "Sam, grab the whiskey and everything else. I'm gonna try to get him a little cleaner." Dean soaked a white cloth in the sink nearby, not caring for a second that the blood could stain. All he cared about was getting Cas healed up.

   Shedding their jackets, the Winchester brothers worked together to get a large towel slid under Cas, and their ragtag supply of needles, sutures and medical strips. Looking at the condition of the unconscious angel on his bed, Dean decided they needed a shit ton more than the basics.

   "Go get some better crap from the store. I'm staying here." No questions about it.

   Sam nods, eyes on Castiel, and grabs the keys before leaving the room.

   Dean planted himself on the bed beside Cas, scooping up the cloth and dabbing at the angels face. He cleaned up the blood around the destroyed eye, and hesitated when he got to the powdery gunk inside. He's gonna have to flush it out, and it'll probably hurt like a bitch.

   "Fuck..."

   Minutes later, he got the angel in the tub and was tugging his ripped clothes off him. His wings seemed smaller now, less threatening and more subtle. More lacerations revealed themselves, and Dean grimaced. Why did he go through this? What did they want?

   Turning the shower on, Dean watched the red flow down the drain off of Cas' body. He grabbed a nearby paper cup and filled it with the lukewarm water, biting his lip so he doesn't puke, and slowly emptied it over the hollow socket. 

   He already had had a hand on Castiel's collarbone, but as the tortured angel flinched away, it tightened and held him in place. A groan passed Cas' lips, and his good eye flickered, his entire body going stiff. Dean almost wavered at the sound, wanting to stop hurting his angel, but he knows he has to flush the magic shit out.

   Over and over, the cup was filled and more of the wet powder was washed away. The water was going cold, but now Dean could see exactly where Castiel was injured and how to help.

   He shut the water off, and grabbed a towel off the rack. The cup hit the floor carelessly, and Dean realized the front of his shirts were soaked; angel blood and water alike.

   When he turned back, he was met with a barely open blue gaze.

   "Cas!" Dean helped the angel sit up, and manoeuvred the towel around his waist. "Hey, buddy, welcome back."

   Cas squints slightly, and Dean panicked a little when he thought his eye would close fully again. "Dean...?" His voice had more roughness than usual, and held a fear tinged waver. His wings quivered slightly.

   "Yeah, it's me." Crouching down, Dean wrapped his arms around Cas, and lifted him into the air. The angel hardly moved, obviously in too much pain to care because his face screwed up.

   " _Hurts_..." 

   "I know, I know, but I'll try to make it stop hurting, okay?" Although Dean was strong, his arms trembled under Cas, plus the added weight of his wings. Dean glanced at the bed, and decided it was better than the tub.

   Cas tried to move his arm, but ended up gasping and whimpering. "Shit, Cas, don't move!"

   Dean helped him onto the bed, where Cas collapses and groans. The hunter looks at him, frustrated. Where the hell is Sam?! He's gonna have to pull those nails out _now_.

   "Cas, I'm so sorry..." Before Cas could question Dean, the cloth is shoved between his teeth and Dean is sliding nails out of his legs like no tomorrow.

   The sound Cas released was close to a scream, and his back arched right off the bed. Dean's free hand landed on his thigh, keeping his leg still. Cas' sound turned into a sob, and Dean almost let one out himself as he worked on the other leg. Bloody nails land in piles around the bed as Dean worked furiously, trying to keep the amount of pain Cas feels to a minimum and not draw it out.

   Dean pants a little as he dropped the last nail on the floor. "Done. All done with those." He quickly wiped his bloody fingers on the towel before grasping Castiel's cheeks gently, angling his face towards Dean. "Shh, it's okay, I'm done now. All done, it's okay."

   His eye was bloodshot with tears, and Dean felt them under his palms, running in thin streams. He grits his teeth, hating that he's causing Cas pain. But something was bugging him. "Why aren't you healing?"

   "I don't know." Cas blinked, and another wave of tears escaped. "Is the concoction out of my skull?" Dean nodded, and Cas sighed with relief. "Good. I should start healing soon. The powder sealed away my Grace, thus causing me to be injured like I am. If it's gone, my Grace should be released."

   Dean frowned. "How soon?" 

   "I don't know."

   The door burst open, and Sam trudged in, hands full of plastic shot bags no doubt holding medical supplies. He visibly relaxed slightly upon seeing a conscious Cas, and set the supplies down.

   "You're awake? That's good." A bag was tossed as Dean's feet. The older hunter begrudgingly let go of his angels face, and rummaged through the bag. He pulled out bottles of painkillers, fresh needles and a shit ton of gauze. 

   Dean offered a nod to his brother before turning back to Cas. 

   "Again, I'm sorry, Cas."

 

            ~~~

 

   Just like Cas had said, his bones had started to mend themselves when Dean was wrapping his wings. The skeletal frame had cracked and crunched under the hunters fingers, almost making Dean shit his pants. 

   Hours later, and Cas was a sight for sore eyes. His entire body seemed to be covered in black sutures, his eye was still missing and there wasn't a square inch of his skin that wasn't laden with bruises. It was his wings that were the worse off.

   The limbs were like bandage wrapped bones, the skin unsalvageable and feathers nonexistent. Cas didn't know if the outer shell would even heal, being solid and part of a spell and all that. He didn't even know how to get rid of them in this state.

   His Grace was repairing his bones first. The internal before the external, he had said to a panicky Dean. It was slow, but effective. All they could do now was wait.

   Sam had gone to get another single room. The angel needed a bed to himself and Dean wasn't leaving his side. As the door to the motel room shut after Sam, silence hit them full force.

   Dean didn't want to ask about the torturing, but he especially didn't want to completely ignore the angel. Did Cas tell the demons anything about them? What was their motive? Are there more coming after them? How did the demon know Cas was going to be walking late at night? So many questions. 

   "Dean...why did you save me?"

   The hunter turned to the angel, interrupting his inner turmoil. "What?"

   The bandages wrapped around Castiel's head and eye were slightly bloodstained and he carefully propped himself up on an elbow, wincing. "Why did you and Sam save me? It could have resulted in your death. It was a stupid action."

   Dean's jaw almost dropped. Stupid?! Anger started to boil. "So, while you were being, oh, I don't know, _tortured_ , Sam and I could just sit back, watch a game or two and not care at all?!" Cas sent a look at him that wasn't quite a glare but more of a stern gaze. 

   "Yes, and I succeeded in keeping your whereabouts quiet during that time. If you were captured, that would have gone to waste. You were safe." Dean couldn't believe his ears. 

   "But you-"

   "-I am broken, Dean. My wings are useless." To prove his point, Castiel lifts a heavily bandaged appendage. "If you or Sam was hurt now, I would not be able to help you. My Grace is wasting itself on me and it's hardly a worthy use. I don't-"

   Cas was too busy going on his self deprecating rant to notice Dean's approach. The hunter sat down beside his angel and started undoing the bandages on his head. He had been watching Cas, and caught sight of the cuts and bruises receding into pale skin. 

   Soon, he could see both blue eyes. Granted, one was redder than the other, but both damp cerulean irises were staring Dean down. Long fingers came up to his eye, and Dean caught them in his hand before the angel pokes himself in the newly formed eyeball. Cas stared at their joined hands, tears slipping out. "I'm useless...why did you save me..."

   Dean's heart clenched, and he pulled Cas so he sat upright. A little moan of pain is all that was heard before Dean started his own rant.

   "You are not useless. You are not broken." He sets his free hand firmly on a healed cheek. "You are Castiel, Angel of the Lord. You help us in hunts and saving our asses and hell, buying beer for us. Sam and me, we both want you here. You are needed here, more for just jobs and healing and shit. So don't ever call yourself useless, because I sure as hell need you."

   Dean stopped himself there, recalling the words he said. They're all true, but he didn't mean to say the last part. It kinda sounded like a confession, and confessions sound girly. Dean Winchester is not girly. It made him squirm, but the look of relief and joy on Castiel's face was worth it.

   Before he knew it, he had a sudden lapful of bandaged angel, sobbing and laughing at the same time. Cas wrapped his mended arms over Dean's shoulders, and buried his face in the space between his shoulder and neck. "Thank you, Dean...thank you..."

   Dean froze, unsure what to do with his arms and his hands and his racing heart and holy shit Cas is sitting on his lap and his brain couldn't catch up fast enough. 

   It's no lie that Castiel is very fucking attractive. Adorably messy sex hair, deep cerulean eyes you can get lost in, the right amount of scruff, plump but slightly chapped looking lips. His blue tie always looked cockeyed, his trench coat resembling one like a streakers in the middle of the night, and the rumpled suit he always wears. Well, not now. Right now, he's dressed in one of Dean's old AC/DC shirts, grey and worn with the multiple areas of performance on the back. There's two rips in the back so that Cas was able to thread his wings through. He also borrowed a pair of black boxer briefs from the hunter. The garment hugs his upper thighs and leaves little to the imagination.

   It's also no lie that Dean is attracted to him. He may or may not have had more than one jerk off session in the shower, featuring a certain angel. It's probably some sort of shitty blasphemy but Dean hasn't been zapped by lightning yet. He knows that emotions are a hard thing to come by when you're a bad ass angel named Castiel - or any angel, technically - and the chances of Cas wanting him back are close to none. He holds himself back from lingering too long when they accidentally touch, or when Cas decides to engage in an impromptu staring contest. He's done pretty good so far. 

   But when the certain angel ended up in his lap, breaths touching his neck and collarbone, Dean couldn't really control himself anymore.

   He moved his hands up so they grasped Castiel's face for the third time tonight, drew the angels face away from his neck, and kissed him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smutty chapter!! Don't read if you don't like it XJ

           ~~~

 

   As he kissed the angel on his lap, Dean felt him tense up. The arms around his shoulders tightened, and a surprised sound was drowned out by Dean's mouth. 

   Soft and slightly chapped, Cas' lips felt amazing against Dean's, something the hunter has wanted for a long time. Obviously, he had never admitted to it before. Dean traced his tongue over a plump bottom lip, groaning when his angel opened his mouth carefully, inexperienced. He ran his hand into Cas' hair, silky strands slipping past his fingers. His other hand settled on a sharp hipbone.

   Five seconds later Dean came to his senses and pulled back, panting slightly.

   Cas was breathing harder, cheeks flushed and hair sticking in all directions, more so than usual. His fingers were clamped onto Dean's shoulders, almost painfully. His lips were slightly swollen and brighter red than normal, a tad glossy.

   They were close enough to share breaths, Dean's hand still tangled in dark hair. His fingers twitched at the sensation, and he unconsciously tugged. 

   Cas' head canted back, a soft moan tumbling from his lips. His eyes closed, and Dean gasped sharply when he felt slim hips rock on his lap. Holy shit. 

   "...Holy shit..." Dean hadn't realized he said that out loud until his murmur was answered with a growl, and suddenly Cas was back against him, kissing and grinding on the hunter. Who was Dean to complain?

   Dean groaned into Cas' mouth when the angel started to explore with his hands, running them over a firm chest, down to washboard abs, and whispering his fingertips over Dean's jeans. Cas played with the hem of Dean's shirt, barely touching skin. Fucking tease.

   Dean almost growled, and pulled Cas' head back to expose his throat, running his tongue up the side and feeling the vibrations from a moan. 

   Cas' hands turned firm on Dean's shirt, and the hunter begrudgingly pulled back so his angel could pull it over his head. A blue gaze hungrily travels over the planes of Dean's stomach and chest, hands quickly following.

   The grey shirt Cas was wearing had two rips in the back, placed there for his wings. It wasn't like Dean didn't have tons of shirts like that, so he sacrificed one for his angel. Now, he almost rips it completely in half as he maneuvered it over Cas' head and dropped it carelessly onto the floor. 

   There's black stitches covering his body, holding together angry red wounds that that demon caused. They stand out against Cas' otherwise perfect skin, but as Dean watches, the smallest sliver of light shines through some of the wounds, slowly eating away at the coarse thread and turning the swollen skin back to normal. His Grace is slowly returning...

   Dean's calloused thumbs brushed over perky nipples, causing a shudder to run through Castiel. Dean stopped. "You good?" Cas had just been tortured. What was Dean doing?!

   "Yes, yes, I'm fine, just don't stop-!" Cas' voice sounded slightly wrecked, and as long as Cas continued to say yes, Dean would be able to hear what his voice sounded after he was all fucked out.

   Dean smiled, and mashed his lips against Castiel's, silencing the angels plead. Cas responded instantly, and Dean made a noise of appreciation when he found that Cas is a quick learner. 

   Dean rolled his hips up against Cas, pulling a soft moan. He did it again, quite liking the sound he was rewarded with, and after Cas returned the grind, they moved like a well oiled machine, dry humping and thrusting against each other.

   "Cas-" Dean broke away from his angels mouth after he felt like his dick was going to fall off. "Let's get these off, yeah?" He flicks the waistband of the boxers he's wearing, and Cas nods his agreement, hair brushing Dean's collarbone. 

   Sadly, Cas had to get off Dean for the hunger to take the boxers off, so as Cas lay on his back, Dean shimmied the underwear down pale thighs, tossing it to the floor moments later. The angels wings splay on either side of him, still bandaged.

   Castiel's cock stood proud and hard, weeping pre-cum and twitching every so often. It was slightly smaller than Dean's, but looked blushed with need. Dean thought it looked beautiful, and just as Cas hoisted himself onto his elbows, he fell with a loud moan because Dean took his cock into his mouth, swirling the tip of his tongue over the slit and past the head.

   It wasn't the first time Dean gave somebody a blowjob, but all the other instances were during high school in some broom closet or behind a skeevy bar. They were with one night stands, or when he really, really needed the cash and hustling wasn't working that night. He had never given head to anybody he cared about.

   Dean wrapped his fist around the base of Cas' cock, pumping in time as be bobbed his head. Ever so often, he would look up to see his angel slowly coming undone. His cheeks were flushed, hands clawing at the bedsheets, moans falling from his throat. A particularly loud groan made Dean stop, leaving Cas' cock with a final suck.

   As much as Dean loved sucking his angel off, he also wanted to try and see if he could get inside that sweet ass. Leaping off the bed, he rummaged around in his bag, finding his lube in record time. He unzipped his jeans with one hand, settling himself back on the bed with the other. The decrease of pressure on his hard dick came with some form of relief, but as he laid eyes on the still panting angel on the bed, even his boxers felt stifling.

   "Cas, 'm gonna try something. Tell me if you want to stop, alright?" Dean pulled himself up so he could look directly into Cas' eyes as he spoke, waiting until the angel nodded mutely. He pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, and sunk back down, opening the bottle of lube. At the click, Cas stiffened. Dean noticed. "Trust me, angel?"

   "With my life."

   The first press of fingers against Cas' opening had the angel tensing all over again, but after Dean pressed kissed all over the insides of his thighs, he was able to coax his finger in so far as the first knuckle. Dean glanced up. "You okay?"

   Cas nodded, and wiggled his hips the tiniest. Dean licked his lips, and pushed his digit in further while monitoring Cas' face carefully.

   After Dean got his index all the way in, he added more lube and teased his middle finger along with his first. Cas gasped and a moan pierced the air as Dean slowly scissored his fingers, stretching Cas gingerly. Dean smiled, watching as his angels bucking hips made his cock bounce inches in front of Dean's face, arousal making his own dick ache.

   Soon enough, Dean could fit three fingers in Castiel easily, gliding in and out smoothly. His moans filled the air, gasps and whimpers in between. Panting, Dean shucked his jeans and boxers off. Cas lay on the bed, almost struggling to breathe and looking completely pliant. His eyes, however, were locked on Dean and widened when the hunters cock spring free, completely hard and ready for Cas.

   "Cas, angel, can you look at me?" Cas has gotten caught up on the size of Dean, and was having an internal panic. What if he didn't fit? Even if he did, it would hurt bad, right?! He doesn't want to get hurt-!

   "Castiel, baby blues on me." His eyes snap up to meet green, and Cas relaxes almost instantly as he recognized the adoration, calm, and lust that belonged to Dean. Who was he kidding? Dean would make sure he would feel the least amount of pain.

   "It's gonna be okay, alright?" Dean caught one of Cas' hands and brought it to his mouth, kissing his knuckles before tangling their fingers tightly and pressing it into the mattress. Dean's other hand was set lightly on his lubed cock, ready to push into Cas. 

   Nodding, Cas reached up and gripped the hand print scar on his hunters shoulder, and a spark of _feeling_ made his heart pound. Dean shuddered, and swallowed before leaning down and kissing Cas chastely as he entered his angel. 

   He sunk deep with a grown, making sure the scrunched look on Cas' face consisted of mostly pleasure. When he was pressed right up against his angel, Cas looked at him and nodded again. "I'm okay. You can move." 

   Dean carefully pulled back, and slowly thrust forwards again, pulling a low moan from Castiel. He tighten his grip on Cas' hand, a small bead of sweat dropping from his hair and onto Cas' bandages chest. Dean realized that he hand completely ignored Cas' wings, and decided that was going to change. Now.

   With his free hand, he quickly tangled his fingers into the dark plumage, revelling in the silky soft feel. Cas, however, opened his mouth in a silent scream as he arched right off the bed, tightening around Dean's member so the hunter groaned hard. Dean chuckled breathily, and smiled at his angel. "Sensitive, huh?" Dean vaguely registered that the bandages wrapped around the wings were gone, and that most of the stitches were missing.

   Cas only growled, and the sound went straight to Dean's dick as the angel bucked up against Dean, trying to get him moving again. 

   Dean gladly thrust into him, dragging a moan from Cas. With his fingers tangled in feathers and separate fingers and his hips driving into the others, Dean felt perfectly satisfied.

   And even more so when he managed to hit that special part inside Castiel.

   "Dean-!" Cas raked his fingers down Dean's back in surprise and pleasure, earning a moan from both of them. Chucking softly into his ear, Dean moved his and Castiel's hand to above their head so he could brace on it, and then used his angle to get even deeper. Cas wrapped his legs around Dean's waist, gasping and moaning all the way. His eyes were hardly open, the blue skirting on the very edge. The odd tear would escape, and Dean would kiss it away, loving the slightly salty taste of Cas. Every thrust would brush past Castiel's prostate, and every time he would clench around Dean, eliciting groans from both parties.

   After so much sexual frustration and foreplay, Cas wanted his release. He chased it with a hand on his own cock, throwing his head back at all three sensations: his ass, his dick, and his wings. Dean was taking his fingers through each feather, teasing some places and massaging others. It was mind blowing, and Cas managed to choke out a few words.

   "Dean-gonna-!" Dean nodded, pounding harder into his angel for those last few seconds. Cas almost screamed as he came all over his hand and stomach, and Dean pressed his forehead to Cas' to catch his lips in a messy kiss before spilling into the angel. He growled Cas' name into the kiss, calming his thrusts into a slow rocking, and then just staying pressed against Cas.

   They stayed like that for who knows how long, before Dean pulled his softening cock out of Cas' ass with a quiet hiss. Tired and definitely satiated, Cas didn't move from his spot as Dean brought a damp washcloth over and wiped him down as best he could, teasing his fucked out ass a bit. His wings shuddered with every breath, and Cas tingled all over.

   Crawling into the bed, Dean carefully pulled his angel over and onto his chest so Cas' head was tucked under his chin, wings splayed out behind him. One arm was wrapped solidly around his waist, and the other was stroking the dark feathers idly. They trembled slightly, making him pull Cas closer to him. The stitches were completely gone, his skin was back to the normal pale, and his wings gleamed with health. The bruises he had seemed like they had never been inflicted before, and Cas sighed happily, so his ribs and bones were straight and strong. Dean could see the bandages laying ripped up on the bed, a distant memory from when he found his angel, ripped apart.

   Dean stroked his fingers over Castiel's feathers, and the angel snuggled closer so his face pressed right against Dean's neck, soft breaths warm. His fingers traced patterns over Dean's chest under the blanket, and both hunter and angel were euphoric and satisfied. But...

   "Hey, Cas?"

   "Mm..."

   "I-I love you..."

   Cas plants a kiss on Dean's jaw, and tangles their legs together. One of his wings covers their bodies over the blanket like a shield, and Cas sighs again.

   "I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THHEEE ENNDDD
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, because this is my first smut/lemon!! I think it went pretty well, but leave your thoughts down below!!


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